


Wherever Inspiration Strikes

by Crows_Imagine



Series: Christmas Exchanges and Requests 2018 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, M/M, art college au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-09-18 10:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16993533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crows_Imagine/pseuds/Crows_Imagine
Summary: Ennoshita, Akaashi, Yahaba, and Shirabu all have a problem: they're in love with three of their friends. Friends that also happen to be their roommates.~~Art college au





	1. The Blank Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic for the Haikyuu Big Bang!! Kat from Kat-doodles is my artist and the art she made for my fic is based on a later part of the fic, so I will link it when the chapter is appears in is posted!

Chikara loves making films. He intends to double-major in directing and cinematography and a minor in creative writing, because why not add onto the workload?) so naturally he’s made quite a few films. Volleyball is a great club for unrelated reasons, but a perk of playing so many teams and meeting tons of new people is that he can use volleyball connections to ask those very people to take part in his films.

He’s recruited his own team and countless others to help his films, whether as actors or offscreen help. While on court all these people are opponents, but off court they’re a team for a different playing ground.

Because of his film-making, he’s become friends with many people, at least acquaintances with others, and all this adds up to his phone constantly receiving new contact information.

One day in the summer before third year, Chikara is helping his aunts in the front yard. While they replant flowers, he mows the lawn and tries to ignore how sweaty the heat makes him. He’s too busy focusing on the making neat rows to examine the passing car, which turns into his neighbor’s driveway. He hears people get out of the car and his aunts call out greetings, but he doesn’t try to listen, intent on his current task. A few minutes later, he’s finished the yard, plucking his shirt to let cool air brush against his chest.

“Are you trying to impress someone?” a familiar voice teases and Chikara swirls around, a grin plastered on his face.

“Keiji! Visiting your grandparents?” he asks, resting his arm against the lawn mower’s handle.

“Hello Chikara-kun,” Akaashi greets, smiling softly.

The two have been friends ever since they were toddlers. Akaashi’s grandparents lived in Miyagi ever since they were married, raising their kids in the same house they currently reside in. Akaashi’s mother studied in Tokyo, eventually falling in love, marrying, and having her only child. The only child to have moved out of the district, Akaashi’s grandparents insist they frequently visit, both parties taking turns. Chikara’s aunts bought a house shortly after his parents died, moving in with him as a little baby, barely two years old. Akaashi’s grandparents invited them over one day when all of their children and and, at the time, only grandchild were visiting. Chikara and Akaashi hit it off immediately and whenever the latter visited, they’d hang out.

“You didn’t tell me you were visiting,” Chikara complains, brushing back sweaty bangs.

“It was a spur of the moment plan,” Akaashi says, nose wrinkles. Chikara chuckles. He knows very well of Akaashi’s preference of organized and advanced planning as opposed to the rest of his family’s impulsiveness. Maybe that’s why he gets along well with Bokuto, his former captain.

Chikara purses his lips as he thinks.  _ Getting along… with captains… _

“You okay?” Akaashi asks right as he blurts out, “Keiji, I have a great idea!”

He grabs Akaashi’s hand, something he’s done a plethora of times ever since they first met, and leads the setter inside. After explaining his idea: “A groupchat where we exchange tips, plan practice games and joint training camps, and get to know each other,” Akaashi got out his phone. “I have Yamamoto-kun’s number-”

“Great,” Chikara says, pulling out his own phone and scrolling through his contacts. “I have Seijoh captain’s number, Yahaba- remember him? He helped with sound on some of my films. Also Shirabu’s, you know, the Shiratorizawa captain, also Futakuchi Kenji and Terushima- Dateko and Johzenji respectively. I also have their vices’ numbers too just in case.”

Akaashi blinks. “You really do have connections,” he says, amused and impressed.

“I’m prepared,” Chikara replies. “Now let’s get this groupchat going.”

“Only if you have headache medicine on hand.”

That was almost a year ago. The seven captains almost bonded immediately, though they had quite a few ups and downs in the beginning. Not only was the groupchat beneficial for their teams, they each gained great friends. And their friendships would not be going away anytime soon.

Why so? Because not only are they all stubborn and have close connections that they won’t allow to end so easily because they’re not in high school going against each other on the court, but because they’re all attending the same college.

The same arts college, to be exact. What are the odds?

Chikara discusses housing with Akaashi, both wanting to share an apartment to help with cost.

“What about this one?” Akaashi asks, showing a nice condo from a real estate site. “It’s quite large and for a good price. Cheaper if we get more roommates.”

It’s evident the wheels are already spinning in Chikara’s head because Akaashi adds, “Why don’t we ask Yahaba-kun and Shirabu-kun?”

“They didn’t say anything about moving into dorms,” Chikara says. Only Yamamoto is living on campus, sharing a dorm with his former vice, future digital art major Fukunaga Shouhei. “Let’s ask them.”

He and Akaashi are both relieved when Shirabu and Yahaba agree to be their third and fourth roommates. After reading reviews of the building and touring the condo once before signing the contract, they move in a few weeks prior to the start of their first year of college. Their moving in was almost a year from the groupchat creation.

They bonded almost instantaneously once again, working through any housing problems somewhat responsibly; an argument between Yahaba and Shirabu concerning chore duties is solved by pillow fights and naturally they Chikara and Akaashi to respectively to their sides (no pillows were harmed in the making of this fight).

Chikara didn’t realize how strong his friendship with the three former setters were until he arrives at the apartment after his first class of the school year, Filmmaking 2. Normally a course for sophomores who took Filmmaking 1 in their freshman year, Chikara was permitted to take an advanced course after an acing the prior course exam. Because it’s not an amatuer class, his professor immediately assigned the project of writing and directing a ten-minute film to showcase their signature directorial style. The sophomores of the class already have connections to other students to produce their films and Chikara is stuck at square one.

_ At least I don’t have to find a screenwriter, _ he thinks to himself as he opens the condo door with a heaving sigh.  _ One less thing to worry about. _

“What’s that smell?” he says out loud, resisting the urge to plop on the couch. It’s his night to cook, so he’s surprised someone beat him to the kitchen.

Yahaba pops his head out of the kitchen. “Ikura don!” he cheers. “My classes start tomorrow so when I got back from exploring the city some more, I decided to make dinner.”

“Yahaba Shigeru, I love you so much,” Chikara sighs, finally falling onto the couch. “And not just because it’s my night to cook.”

“You only had one class and you’re already exhausted?” Yahaba teases, leaning against the kitchen doorway.

“Remember that class I had to take an exam for?” Chikara sits up. “To bypass the first course and get into the second one? The first assignment is to make a 10 minute film about our style as a director and it’s due in three weeks.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Chikara sighs again. “I need actors, a cinematographer, sound people-”

“Are you forgetting how I helped you on some films?” Yahaba questions.

Chikara blinks. “You’d be willing to help me again? Even though you’re in the same boat as me with all these new classes?”

“I’m only doing ten hours for the first semester,” Yahaba says. “I’ll be fine. And I’m sure Akaashi will help you. He’s wrapped around your little finger,” he adds, though not unkindly.

Chikara wants to ask Yahaba to elaborate on that, but the door opens and their other roommates enter. Shirabu immediately heads to his room to drop off his violin case and backpack while Akaashi slips his backpack off by the door.

“How was your first class?” Akaashi asks. He lifts Chikara’s legs to sit down and once in a comfortable position, places his legs over his lap. Not an unusual position for them, as being childhood friends made them quite comfortable with touching and closeness.

Chikara explains the assignment as Shirabu enters the living room, dressed in sweatpants and the complementary university T-shirt bestowed upon the freshmen at their orientation, and laptop under his arm.

“A film already?” Shirabu asks, sitting down on the available couch room. “They certainly didn’t waste time.”

Chikara nods in agreement and turns to Akaashi. “Yahaba volunteered to help me with the sound, would you be interested in doing the cinematography?” Before Akaashi even answers, he adds with hopeful eyes, “I’m sure your professors would love seeing you doing bonus work outside of class.”

“You don’t need to bribe me to say yes,” Akaashi says, gently poking Chikara’s leg. “Of course I’m happy to.”

“No way am I getting left out,” Shirabu insists, glancing up from his laptop. “I’ll help.”

“Part of my summer homework for my composition class was to, well, compose some music.” Yahaba moves from the kitchen doorway to bending down and resting his arms on the couch. “I’ll check with my professors, but maybe Shirabu can play some of my music. If it fits your film.”

“What’s your film about?” Akaashi curiously asks.

“That’s what I’ll be working on tonight,” Chikara answers, stretching his arms. “But I think Yahaba’s music will fit nicely. You’re all sure you’ll be able to help?” he checks. “Even with your workloads?”

“We already agreed, we can’t back out now,” Shirabu says. “Unless you’re a coward.”

They all chuckle at that, with Chikara, Shirabu, and Akaashi laughing harder when the timer goes off and causes Yahaba to jump and race into the kitchen.

Chikara smiles, a weight lifted off his shoulder.

It’s not long until he discovers how much he’d be smiling around these three setters.


	2. The First Paintstroke

Kenjirou closes his textbook, leaning forward until his forehead touched the cover. Finally he’s done with calculus for the week. He ignores the idea of working ahead for next week’s homework, he’d already been working for two hours today alone on the horrid math.

The rest of the apartment is silent, understandably so considering it’s long after midnight. Mere minutes ago, as he forced himself to work through math equations and graphs, his eyes drooped. But naturally, as soon as he completed his work, he gets a second wind.

He rubs his eyes. Even if he may not be as tired as he was before, he wants to go ahead and sleep for days. And there’s only one thing guaranteed to tire him out in the best way.

Kenjirou pushes his rolling chair away from his desk, sliding across the room to his window perch. He goes through his sheet music and after finding the his favorite piece out of his new, not completely learned music, he unzips his violin case. Once the music is placed on the stand, he grabs his instrument and the bow, proceeding to play the sweet melody.

He doesn’t make it through the full song when his door slides open.

“Shirabastard, what the fuck are you doing?” Yahaba demands, grumbly eyes glaring at him.

“That’s a new one, Yahabullshit,” Kenjirou answers without skipping a beat.

“Likewise,” Yahaba snorts. He covers a yawn. “What are you doing up? Playing music no less?”

“Trying to get tired again so I can go to sleep.” Kenjirou turns his back to Yahaba and continues playing.

The taller male walks up to him and takes his bow. “And you decided that getting in the bed and closing your eyes wasn’t a good enough method?”

“This way I know I’ll get tired out instead of waiting for my body to decide,” Kenjirou replies, taking back the bow.

“Didn’t think I’d be awakened this late at night-”

“It’s morning.”

“-This late at night by my own music, no less.”

Kenjirou glances at the sheet music. Sure enough, Yahaba’s initials peek out from the top right hand corners. He forgot some of his new music was composed by Yahaba. He’s learning it for Ennoshita’s movie, he’s even recording it in a week.

“Always have to keep you on your toes.”

“Your true colors come out,” Yahaba says. “You’re not the roommate that leaves dirty dishes until they mold or won’t take out the trash even if it becomes a tower. No, you’re the roommate that wakes up everyone. Not by entering and leaving noisily, that’s too basic.”

This time it’s Kenjirou who snorts. “Is there anything else you want to berate me for?”

Yahaba slides the door door close and sits down on Kenjirou’s bed, crossing his legs. “No. Can you play it from the beginning? I haven’t heard someone else play it.”

Kenjirou shares a look with Yahaba and nods slowly. “Sure.”

Yahaba lays on his back, hands crossed over his lower stomach. “Play away.”

Kenjirou gives a small smile as lifts the bow over the strings. The beautiful melody drifts through the air again.

Once he’s finished with the song, he looks over at his roommate. With a soft, content smile across his once tired face, he’s calm and peaceful. Also asleep.

Kenjirou sighs. He puts up his music and violin, casting another look at Yahaba. Apparently he’s not a loud sleeper. 

He doesn’t have the heart to move him or even wake him up so he’d return to his bedroom, so Kenjirou grabs a pillow and his favorite blanket. He debates sleeping on the couch or in Yahaba’s bed.

He makes his decision once in the hall, walking down to Yahaba’s room. After all, fair is fair.

As he slips into the neatly made bed, Kenjirou notes the sweet scent of lavender, Yahaba’s scent, filling the air. A pleasant realization to fall asleep to and he’s not the only one with a soft smile on his sleeping face.

~~

The next morning, Shigeru wakes up to the sound of a crash and a following,  _ “Shit!” _ He’s so hungry he almost doesn’t register his location.

“This certainly isn’t my room,” he says to no one, eyeing the foreign room. Why is he in Shirabu’s room? He remembers last night (or early that morning) and comes to the realization he fell asleep while Shirabu was playing.

He clears his throat, focusing on fluffing down his creampuff hair to make it look somewhat presentable before dashing out of Shirabu’s room.

(After making sure the bed is neat. He’s a good guest).

“Terushima, what are you doing here?” Shigeru prompts as he enters the kitchen. “I don’t recall you being one of my roommates.”

Terushima turns to Shigeru with a grin, as though he didn’t nearly spill the pot of hot oil. He must’ve been painting earlier because paint is smudged across his upper cheek. “We’re just stopping by!” 

“We?” Shigeru asks.Terushima’s energy, paired with his loud clothing, are too bright for the early morning. He needs coffee. “Who’s we?”

Futakuchi leans out from behind the walk-in cabinet. “I can’t find any sour gummies, what the heck?”

“I don’t know if we eat a lot of those,” Shigeru says, rubbing his eyes. He’s met with the delightful sight of brewed coffee in its usual carafe. “Anyone else here?” he inquires as he grabs a mug and pours himself coffee. “Who even let you into the apartment?”

“Akaashi let us in when Terushima said he’d make breakfast!” Yamamoto cheerfully says, entering the kitchen from the living room.

“Of course he did,” Shigeru says. “It’s that bastard’s turn to make breakfast. Where is Akaashi, anyway?”

Terushima chuckles as he grabs the raw donuts and gently sets them in the hot oil. “He’s in the living room.”

“Enjoying his newfound freetime from wiggling out of breakfast duty,” Shigeru grumbles. He’s not really mad, because he’s heard Terushima is great at cooking. He’ll still be petty, because it’s something to wave over Akaashi’s head. He knows Akaashi won’t be bothered, though.

“Yeah. Futakuchi, where’s the powdered sugar?”

“Not by the sour gummies,” Futakuchi quips as he slides the container over to Terushima.

“If you want a stash here, you’ll have to buy it yourself,” Shigeru says, leaving the three crashers to their own devices. He heads to the living room-dining room (he dubs it the combo room), ready to tease Akaashi when he spots a sleeping Ennoshita clinging to him, both still wearing pajamas. Akaashi runs a hand through the younger’s hair and Shigeru holds back a loud ‘aww.’ On the coffee table, a bowl empty aside from a few abandoned popcorn kernels sits beside a stack of foreign movies.

Akaashi glances up. “Hello, Yahaba-kun,” he greets, unbothered as ever as he continues combing his fingers through Ennoshita’s soft hair.

“Is this why you got Terushima to make breakfast?” he asks, sitting down in the armchair beside the couch. He lifts his mug to his lips and sighs at the taste. 

“Terushima-kun offered, so I told him where the key was and to let himself inside,”Akaashi answers. “Naturally he brought Futakuchi-kun and Yamamoto-kun.”

“Naturally,” Shigeru says as Ennoshita stirs, nuzzling his face further in Akaashi’s chest. He realizes Ennoshita is wearing Akaashi’s old Fukurodani sweatshirt. The adorable sight makes his heart skip a beat. “Your current job is being a snuggle buddy.”

“Nothing I’m not used to,” Akaashi says. “Been a job since I was a little kid and I spent the night with Chikara-kun.”

Shigeru forgot they were childhood friends. “Ennoshita is a big snuggler, huh?”

“Quite,” Akaashi says, laying one arm around Ennoshita’s waist. “Especially if he can’t sleep or had a bad dream.

“Is that what happened last night?” Shigeru crosses his arms as he takes another long sip of coffee.

Akaashi reaches behind his head to grab his own coffee cup. He artfully manages taking a sip without sitting up or spilling the hot liquid on either him or Ennoshita. “We actually fell asleep on the couch after marathoning a few movies we’d both been wanting to see. Sometimes, though, snuggling is the way to make sure he goes to sleep instead of staying up late and working.”

“He’s not the only one who likes to stay up late to work,” Shigeru says, telling Akaashi about early that morning when Shirabu practiced his music. He decides not to mention how he fell asleep in Shirabu’s room and his assumption that Shirabu proceeded to sleep in his room. 

“I know you like to stay up as well,” Akaashi counters. “Don’t think I can’t tell when your lamp is on even if your overhead light is off.”

“That’s different,” Shigeru argues. “I don’t stay up late as often.”

“Sometimes you’re on your phone.”

“I turn down my screen’s brightness, how can you tell?”

“Because you just admitted it,” Akaashi replies.

Shigeru drops his jaw. “That was a dirty move!”

“You only insist that because you fell for it, Yahaba-kun,” Akaashi smirks.

Ennoshita sits up, blinking wearily. “Good morning,” he mumbles, holding back a yawn.

“Good morning indeed,” Akaashi says, pushing back Ennoshita’s bangs from his sleepy eyes. “Terushima is making breakfast.”

“Since when did he move in?”

Shigeru snorts. “He’ll be staying in Akaashi’s room, since he’s already taking his rotation.”

“You’re going to be bitter for a while, aren’t you Yahaba-kun?” Akaashi quips.

“I’m a bitter person, so yeah,” Shigeru admits.

Ennoshita chuckles. Shigeru smiles lightly. Has his laugh always been that cute?

Terushima pops his head out of the kitchen. “Donuts are done!” Not even a minute alter does Kenjirou wander out of his- actually, _Shigeru’s_ - room.

“Did I hear donuts?” Kenjirou groggily asks, patting down his hair. Shigeru holds back a huff. How come all his roommates have cute bedhead and his is a big, poofy mess?

“Donuts!” Yamamoto cheers, holding a plate of freshly fried donuts. He places them in the center of the  kotatsu, Futakuchi following him with his arms full of plates. Perhaps Shigeru doesn’t mind if the three come over whenever if they prepare food and the table.

Kenjirou straightens. “You made donuts?” he says, eyes wide with hope.

Terushima nods as he emerges from the kitchen, holding a few mugs and the coffee. “They’re a family recipe. My family loves to make them on weekends together.” He wistfully smiles. “It’s one thing I miss about home.”

“Guess we’ll just have to join in next time,” Shigeru says. “You didn’t have to cook all by yourself. Next time just wake us up.”

“Unless you come here at six in the morning,” Shirabu adds. “Then you can go fuck yourself.”

The others collapse in snorts and laughter.

Shirabu blinks. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

This only increases the laughter. After they’re managed to conduct themselves, they move to the kotatsu.

“I’m glad you’re all here,” Ennoshita begins, leaning forward to grab a donut. “We can go ahead and discuss the film schedule. Yamamoto, you’ll be the lead actor.”

“Are you sure you don’t want an actual actor?” Yamamoto nervously asks. “I’m a wood carver, not an actor.”

“Yamamoto, you’re perfect for the role,” Ennoshita assures him. “I’ll help you out, don’t worry. Terushima is the bartender, Keiji is the camera man, Yahaba will help out with sound, Kenjirou will play Yahaba’s music and we’ll record it.”

“What about me?” Futakuchi asks, taking a donut and tearing it in half. “I don’t have a part.”

“Do you want to help?” Ennoshita checks.

“I can’t be left out!” Futakuchi indignantly says.

“You can be Chikara-kun’s assistant,” Akaashi says. “Do whatever he says.”

“Want to help me scout locations?” Ennoshita asks. “You can join Keiji and me.”

“Why not make it a group outing?” Shigeru suggests.

“Yeah! It’ll be fun!” Terushima grins.

“As long as you all don’t get off task,” Ennoshita says, taking a big bite out of his donut.

“Us? Get off task?” Terushima waves his hands. “Trust us, Ennoshita, we’ll be great!”

Ennoshita is unconvinced. “If you say so.”


	3. To the Drawing Board

Location scouting goes horribly wrong in the best way possible. Chikara knew all seven of them together would cause problems, but he was confident in his abilities to round up troublemakers- after all, if a Karasuno captain couldn’t do that, what could he do?

He didn’t take into account of how there would be times during the trip he’d be so focused on observing the location that he’d lose sight of the troublemakers (which sometimes include Yahaba and Shirabu, but is mainly Terushima and Futakuchi, with innocent Yamamoto dragged along).

So the day ended after three stops with: two restaurants throwing them out, one trash car run into, over ten thousand yen spent in snacks and beverages from various street vendors, and watching over a seven-year-old who got separated from their parents for almost half an hour in the park as they tried to track down the parents.

Chikara immediately falls facedown on the couch as soon as he and Akaashi gets home. Shirabu and Yahaba headed to the grocery store to pick up supplies for dinner

“And to think we were only out two hours when all of that happened,” Akaashi muses. “Excluding transportation time, which rounded would make it three. Quite a full day.”

“That’s a light way of putting it.” Chikara rolls over on his back and looks up at Akaashi to find the taller male looking at him. He smiles. “Say Keiji, do you want to watch a movie?”

“In the elevator you were ready to fall asleep instantly and now you want to watch a movie?” Akaashi teases.

“I like background noise,” Chikara says, sitting up. “And a cuddle buddy.” He pats the space next to time. “You can’t fool me. I saw you yawn when you unlocked the door.”

“You got me there.” Akaashi sits beside him and tugs him close to his side. “Play something we’ve seen, I think we’ll both fall asleep long before it’s over.”

“That’s the plan,” Chikara says, happy they instilled a TV with a streaming service so he doesn’t have to get back up to pick a DVD from the movie shelf. He picks  _ Singin’ in the Rain _ , one of their favorite movies they watched together when they were little. Akaashi smiles as the opening scene begins.

Chikara lays his head on Akaashi’s shoulder as the latter says, “I forgot to mention this earlier, but I was hoping you and Yahaba-kun and Shirabu-kun would like to be in my portfolio?”

“For your photography class?” Chikara says. “Of course.”

Akaashi relaxes slightly. “I was nervous you’d say no.”

“How come?" he asks. “I always love to help you out.”

Unless his eyes are deceiving him, Akaashi blushes. "You still might have said no."

“Well, I said yes," he says, poking his best friend's side. I’m certain Yahaba and Shirabu would like to help,” Chikara continues.

“I’ll ask then when they get back,” Akaashi says as the two simultaneously snuggle closer.

And it’s no surprise when Shirabu and Yahaba come home to Chikara and Akaashi curled up, snoring softly.

~~

Keiji is happy to report Ennoshita isn’t the only of the quad to incorporate the others into a project. A week after location scouting and getting positive responses to asking Yahaba and Shirabu, Keiji has wrangled all three of his roommates into being the stars of his first portfolio. It’s part of his final exam for the semester, the teacher giving them a head’s up so early in the semester so they have no excuse for bad portfolios. He likes to work ahead of time, so while all the photos he takes today might not all make it into the final product, or any at all, it gives him ideas of what he wants and doesn’t want.

Keiji adjusts the settings on his camera, eyes concentrated on the digital screen.  _ Still too much exposure…  _ he internally complains.

“Are you done yet?” Futakuchi calls out, body slung over the couch.   
Keiji pays no attention to him. “Shirabu, relax,” he calls out. “You look too stiff.”

Shirabu fidgets, uncomfortable even with his prized possession in his arms. “I’m not used to people photographing me,” he claims, once more adjusting his position on the wooden stool.

“Act normal,” Keiji replies, glancing up from his camera. He’s used to dealing with nervous models during photo shoots. Comes with the job. “My portfolio is people doing what they love,” he fibs. That’s not the exact assignment, but he doesn’t want to tell them what the actual theme is just yet. He wants to tell them in a special, formal way. “I don’t think you love to fidget, you love to play.”

Shirabu blushes. “I’m nervous,” he mutters, eyes gazing downward. Keiji’s heart thumps and he internally tells it to shut up.

“Aww, Shirabu-kun is a tsundere,” Futakuchi coos, lazily popping a handful of sour gummies into his mouth.

“Shut up!” Shirabu snaps. “I’m not a tsundere and even if I was, that has nothing to do with this!”

“Tsunderes always deny they’re tsunderes,” Yahaba helpfully says, entering the room. In his hand he holds his composing notebook and a few of his favorite scores from Ennoshita’s films for his turn as the model.

“See?” Futakuchi cries out. “Yahaba gets it!”

Shirabu scowls. Before he gets up and whacks Futakuchi over the head with his violin bow, Keiji sets down the camera.

“Get off the stool,” he requests, walking over to the window. “You look too stiff, too proper. This isn’t a recital. You’re enjoying yourself.”

“Who said I didn’t enjoy recitals?” Shirabu mumbles under his breath as he follows Keiji’s instructions.

He waves a hand, nonverbally asking Shirabu to join him. The shorter male does and Keiji situates him in front of the window.

“The lighting here is great,” Keiji hums. “Okay, now start playing.”

Shirabu casts him a curious look. “You want me to actually play?” he asks incredulously.

Keiji nods. “I don’t want you posing like you are playing. I need to capture you in the moment.”

By this time, Ennoshita joins them and casually steals one of Futakuchi’s sour gummies. The former ace lets out a cry of protest. “Rude!”

Ennoshita ignores him, plopping down between Yahaba and Futakuchi. “Shush, I want to hear Shirabu play.”

Keiji smiles to himself when Shirabu blushes even harder. He never took Shirabu for someone who gets flustered easily before they became roommates. After one time, awakened after three a.m. due to Shirabu’s random playing moments, Keiji told him he couldn’t be mad after that delicate song. Shirabu had stuttered and nearly ran from the room, calling out awkward thanks.

While Shirabu still wears the blush, Keiji calls out, “No one say anything. The only sound I want to hear is Shirabu’s violin.”

Shirabu takes a deep breath, positioning the instrument under his chin and raising his bow over the strings. He waits a moment, getting into his playing zone. Slowly a beautiful song drifts off the strings into the air.

Keiji blinks multiple times to focus back on his camera. Not wanting to interrupt to tell Shirabu to move, he works around him. Luckily the sun streaming through the glass hits Shirabu and the instrument wonderfully.

Once Shirabu finishes the song, slowly setting his arm down by his side, gently gripping the bow, does Keiji lower his camera.

_ Click. _

Keiji glances to the side. Ennoshita slipped out of the room during his photographing to get his own camera and the director cheekily smiles, camera hiding his eyes. “I got a nice one of you and Shirabu,” Ennoshita says. “You both look so peaceful.”

He smiles lightly. “I’m not a model, I’m a photographer,” he jokes as Shirabu glances over Ennoshita’s shoulder at the screen.

“It looks nice,” Shirabu admits. “Even though I’m in it.”

“You’re great Shitabu, now shut up,” Yahaba says, picking up Shirabu’s violin case and opening it for him.

“Fine, Yahabitch,” Shirabu answers, placing his violin and bow inside. Ennoshita shakes his head at the two’s banter. He unloops the camera strap from his neck and turns the camera towards Keiji. “Has anyone here looked in a mirror? You’re pretty enough to be a model, all of you,” he insists.

“Am I included?” Futakuchi calls, finishing his bag of sour gummies.

“Maybe if you and Terushima didn’t act like freeloaders,” Ennoshita replies, not missing a beat.

Futakuchi sits up, ready to defend his honor. “We stayed the night only like, twice last week! And one time was because our heater broke!”   
“And the other time was for what?” Ennoshita presses.

“...I can always be a photo shoot assistant.”


	4. Shaping of the Sculpture

Should Chikara already be asleep? Yes, as a matter of fact, he should be, but his inability to accept his imperfect work often keeps him up working on assignments much later than he should be awake. Especially if said assignments have anything to do with his films.

On his bedside table, glaring red numbers read out the time.

2:49 a.m.

Chikara doesn’t even have class for the next two days. There’s plenty of time to continue editing his script after he goes to sleep. Once finding a decent part to stop on, he lets out a heavy sigh and closes his laptop. At least he can sleep in tomorrow, or technically today.

Eyes welcoming the darkness of his closed lids, he adjusts his spot until he deems laying on his side comfortable for the time being. What all does he need to do when he wakes up? Well, he does have the-

Less than a minute later, a loud screeching shrill sounds the air. Chikara sighs again. He sits up and slips on his slippers. No question who’s causing those sounds.

He’s relieved the other two are asleep as he pads out to the living room. Bundled up in sweatpants and a fluffy blanket on the couch, a sheepish Yahaba is shuffling through his backpack.

“Forgot I didn’t have headphones,” he admits, glancing not over his shoulder but tilting his head upward so he’s looking up backwards. Chikara hums and rests his hands on the back of the couch, behind Yahaba’s shoulders. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” he prods.

“You act as though your light didn’t turn off less than ten minutes ago,” Yahaba quips, still bending his head back. Chikara playfully pushes his head back into its previous position. Yahaba grunts playfully and Chikara chuckles.

“Touche.” He steps over the back of the couch and sits beside Yahaba, crossing his legs over his thighs like the former setter. “What’s this for?”

Yahaba covers Chikara’s lap with some of the fuzzy blanket, tucking it around both of their crossed legs. “Reviewing classic sound effects for a quiz tomorrow,” he answers, not bothering to connect his headphones but rather turn down the volume. “We need to know origins and how they were made. The Wilhelm scream is here and I kid you not, one guy was all ‘what the fuck is that’ to his seatmate. Who doesn’t know the Wilhelm scream?! It’s been used in nearly 400 movies! And you call yourself a film sound major.” Yahaba rolls his eyes. “Honestly though…”

Chikara chuckles. He likes seeing Yahaba all passionate, even when he’s ranting about annoying classmates. Yahaba gets a special look in his eyes, a sparkling tint, and sometimes Chikara has to remind himself to focus on his words instead of his eyes.

“When’s your class?”

“10 a.m,” Yahaba answers, rubbing his eyes.

“You’ll do better if you get some sleep,” Chikara says.

“I don’t want to hear those words from you,” Yahaba replies, not lifting his eyes off the screen. “And you said your pet peeve was hypocrisy.”

Chikara raises his hands. “I was about to go to sleep when I heard that lovely scream. Plus, I don’t have any classes tomorrow _or_ the next day.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Yahaba says. “It’s not fair you have two days free of anything and I have class each day. Five days a week and they’re at shitty times of the day too.”

“One of my classes is 8:30,” Chikara reminds him. “Take that as you will.”

Yahaba hums and closes his laptop. Setting it inside his backpack along with his unused headphones, he leans against Chikara’s side.

“I’ll review again at breakfast,” he mumbles, resting his cheek on Chikara’s shoulder. He doesn’t even register his hand going through Yahaba’s soft locks of hair, it’s so ingrained.

Chikara internally pats himself on the back for the accomplishment of getting Yahaba to sleep. “It’s Akaashi’s turn to make breakfast,” he softly says, tucking in the gray blanket around them so they’re snuggly.

“That breakfast schedule was one of our better ideas,” Yahaba says, eyes already drooping from seduction of sleep. “And that Shirabu cleans the dishes half the time.”

“That’s what he gets for nearly setting our kitchen on fire with instant coffee,” Chikara mutters.

“What were you working on?” Yahaba asks, half-awake.

“My latest script.”

“Is this one for your film class or a non-school one?” Yahaba stifles a yawn in the midst of his sentence. "You're always making some kind of film, whether it's for class or not."

“This one is for my film class,” Chikara answers, eyes fluttering close as sleep takes him for temporary holds at last.

He wakes up after sunlight streams across the living room. Limbs tangled with Yahaba, he makes no move to even undo the knots. Mindlessly he notices another blanket is tucked around him and Yahaba, on top of the one from earlier.

It isn’t until he’s fully awake a while later that he realizes it’s Akaashi’s favorite blanket, a fuzzy blue one. Before then, he drifts back to sleep not even a moment later, falling asleep right as Shirabu gently lifts his head to set a pillow underneath.

Chikara is happy to report that over the next few months, none of this behavior lessens. Rather, it increases, and so does the ginormous crush he has on all of his roommates and close friends.

Well shit. 


	5. *Slams Postmodern Details at Your Face*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is inspired by what I learned in my Postmodern class. I'm breaking the fourth wall with my title (I know it takes away a little bit by explaining it, but I didn't want people to be confused) and other Postmodern stuff. Enjoy!

_Five Years Later:_

_Chikara sighs, setting down his notebook and pen on the coffee table. Over the years, throughout college, grad school, and afterwards, he’s become good friends with the couch. That happens when one often falls on it out of sheer tiredness and exhaustion. He greets the couch cushions, embedded with his back shape, with another plop._

_“What’s up?” Yahaba asks, heading over to sit near Chikara. “You look perplexed.”_

_“I decided to put my creative writing minor to use,” he begins as Yahaba beside him, their shoulders brushing._

_“What are you writing?”_

_“I was trying to write about us,” he sheepishly says. “About how all of us started to fall for each other.”_

_Yahaba immediately goes, “Aww. You’re such a sap.”_

_Chikara bumps his knee against Yahaba’s. “The problem is, I don’t know when everyone started realizing our feelings.”_

_“Did I hear you’re documenting our awkward pining?” Shirabu inquires, joining his two boyfriends on the couch._

_“Yeah,” Chikara says as Shirabu pecks his and Yahaba’s cheeks. “The problem is: I’m not four people, only one. You can all tell me ‘I realized I fell for everyone at this time,’ or ‘I first realized I had feelings for Shigeru, then it was more gradual for others,’ or something. But I don’t know the exact moment when the pieces connected. It feels fake to make up some moment. I only know when it all connected for me.”_

_“Then why not write about it from your point-of-view?” Yahaba asks._

_“I want to make it more authentic than just my perspective,” Chikara explains. “It’s more than my view-point, it’s everyone’s.” He lets out a sigh. “I’m not sure what to do, but I still have that nagging urge to write about all of us, and it won’t go away.”_

_The three are silent, considering new ideas._

_Yahaba snaps his fingers. “I know! You should write about the Christmas party!”_

_“You mean Fukunaga’s?” Chikara checks. “The one-”_

_“That we shouldn’t bring up,” Akaashi interrupts, coming from the kitchen. “I bring hot chocolate.”_

_“Thank you Keiji,” the three chorus._

_Akaashi shakes his head, slightly amused. “Don’t ‘Keiji’ me when you’re about to discuss the most embarrassing night of my life,” he says as he hands everyone their specialized mug._

_“But it’s what brought us together!” Yahaba argues. “Plus you were really funny when you were drunk.”_

_“I had a whole plan to confess to you all,” Akaashi says, sipping his hot chocolate. “All of my hard work went to waste because drunk me didn’t know when to shut his trap.”_

_“It didn’t go to waste,” Chikara argues. “You showed us after you got over your hangover and we all loved it.”_

_Shirabu nods as he gulps down his hot chocolate. “I didn’t realize how sappy you were.”_

_“We’re all sappy,” Chikara claims._

_Yahaba doesn’t realize he has a mustache of whipped cream and none of his boyfriends intend to inform him. “I still think you should write about that night, unless Keiji feels uncomfortable with it.”_

_“If you ever publish this or put it in a screenplay, I assume you’d change enough details so no one realizes it happened,” Akaashi mutters._

_“Of course, Keiji,” Chikara smiles, leaning forward to kiss his nose before grabbing “But let’s start a little earlier, shall we?” He grins at all of them and uncaps his pen. “Here we go.”_


	6. Roll Tape

_ Chikara scribbles at the top of his paper ‘Five Months Later.’ “May as well jump right into it.” _

“It wasn’t a big fire,” Shirabu begins.

“Any fire is too big a fire!” Yahaba protests.

“It was a  _ flame- _ ”

“It was a fucking fire and you know it!”

Keiji sighs. Fifth time and their guests have only been here ten minutes. “Shirabu-kun, it was a rather large fire and it nearly burned down the kitchen.”

Shirabu sulks. “I disagree.”

“Let’s call the fire department and they can testify,” Keiji quips.

“Ohhhh, nice kill!” Terushima calls, plopping on the couch and all over Shirabu. He grumbles and pushes Terushima off his legs. “Get off, you large canary.”

“I love canaries!” Terushima happily says. “They’re so fucking cool. I mean- they’re  _ birds _ . And birds are so cool, am I right?”

“They make squeaky noises,” Futakuchi says, grabbing a handful of chips.

“Get a plate,” Ennoshita demands, handing over a festive paper plate. Futakuchi makes a face, but does as he says. Since he’s a guest and  _ no one _ wants to tick off Ennoshita, he follows the order. Smart man.

Yamamoto sets down the presents he and the other two brought over, beelining to the neatly organized movie shelves. “Holiday has been arranged on the eye level shelves,” Ennoshita calls as he heads to the kitchen. Whenever he’s in the a certain genre mood, he’ll move movies of his current fancy to the eye level shelf for his and other viewer’s movie-choosing ease.

“Where are you going?” Terushima asks. “I thought we were going to wrap and watch movies together?”

“Everything for Shouhei-chan’s party needs to be perfect,” Yamamoto insists, grabbing a slew of DVDs and placing them on the table by the snacks. Satisfied, he proceeds to get out all the gifts and wrapping supplies.

“Or  _ purrfect  _ as your boyfriend would say,” Terushima says, nudging Yamamoto’s arm. Recently he and Fukunaga start dating and Yamamoto is head over heels for the quiet male. They’re quite sweet together. With Yamamoto and Fukunaga as a new couple and Ennoshita mention recently four of his old friends from Karasuno paired off, Keiji ponders that this truly is cuffing season.

“I need to finish baking cookies for the party tomorrow,” Ennoshita says. “And certain people are not allowed in the kitchen without a babysitter.”

Shirabu grumbles again, crossing his arms. Futakuchi coos. “Does lil Shirabu need a babysitter? Is he Shirababy?”

That earns Futakuchi a swat on the arm. “Shirababy is mad!” Futakuchi comments. He smirks and makes crying whines, intimating a baby.

Shirabu throws a pillow at Futakuchi this time. “Fuck off!”

“Quit while you’re ahead,” Yahaba suggests, popping one of Futakuchi’s chips in his mouth.

“Shirabu can be in the kitchen to help decorate, you all can help,” Ennoshita continues. He ruffles Shirabu’s hair. “Don’t pout, I’m making your favorite cookies.”

Shirabu perks up at the news. “Really?”

Keiji holds back a chuckle at his messy hair, reaching over to smooth down the caramel locks. 

“You’re making  _ the  _ sugar cookies?” Shirabu hopefully asks, subconsciously leaning into Keiji’s touch.

“Yep,” Ennoshita says. “Just don’t try to sneak into the kitchen.” He stretches his arms. “I’m going to change into something cozier before I continue baking. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

After finally deciding on a movie, all the gifts are laid out and wrapping commences. Not even three minutes later, Keiji is covered in ribbons and bows. He then decides that helping Ennoshita with the baking would be less messy and knows he’s one of the trusty kitchen people as opposed to fire-starting Shirabu.

Removing all the decorations off his body, Keiji enters the kitchen. Ennoshita wears sweatpants and a flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows so no food would get on it. Over that he dons a holiday apron. Keiji never realized how much holiday decorations and apparel they all had in the apartment. Learn something everyday.

As Ennoshita removes cookie dough from a bowl onto a mat, Keiji furrows his eyebrows.

_ Wait a second-  _ “Is that my shirt?”

Ennoshita looks up. “Huh?”

“Is that one of my flannel shirts?” Keiji aks, tilting his head. It looks like the one he’s been missing ever since last week, when he placed it in the washer and by the time it finished in the washer and dryer, it disappeared.

“Oh.” Ennoshita shifts, a light pink flushing over his cheeks. They’re around the same sizes but the sleeves seem longer on him than they do on Keiji. Chikara is a tad shorter than him, maybe that’s why, he muses. “It-it might be. Is it okay? I wanted a flannel shirt and yours smell nice and everything of yours seems soft-”

Keiji hopes he isn’t blushing. “It’s okay,” he assures Ennoshita. “Just was wondering where it went.”

“I grabbed one without thinking,” Ennoshita admits. He runs his fingertips over the red plaid. “It’s warm. Perfect for this weather. Very cozy.”

“I’m glad.” Keiji remembers the reason he entered the kitchen. “You want help? Yahaba-kun is making sure Shirabu-kun doesn’t sneak into the kitchen as well as keeping an eye on the rowdy three.” The rowdy three is the label he’s given to Yamamoto, Futakuchi, and Terushima. He’s always amazed when they leave the apartment and it’s still standing.

“I’d love some,” Ennoshita softly smiles. “Wash your hands and you can knead the cookie dough. I put it in the mixer, but my aunts always knead it and I always follow their instructions.” He chuckles and gestures to the hook of aprons. “ Make sure to get an apron,I suggest one of the holiday ones. Don’t forget the matching hat that goes with the aprons! I forgot to put one on, can you hand me one?”

“Of course,” Keiji says. He picks one of the Santa hats and places it on Ennoshita’s head. “Good?”

Ennoshita grins. “Thanks,” he says. “Now pick one for yourself.”

Keiji places one on his own head after tying his apron. He cleans his hands and takes the reins of the cookie dough while Ennoshita washes his hands to rid of any sticking dough.

“How is Yahaba distracting them?” Ennoshita asks. “I’m certain Futakuchi is still hogging the remote.”

“Yamamoto-kun convinced Futakuchi-kun to play  _ Elf _ while they wrap presents,” Keiji reports as Ennoshita gets out cookie cutters. “They’re quoting it loudly and the movie hasn’t even been on five minutes.”

Ennoshita laughs. “Even then, they sound too quiet,” he claims. “Keep an eye on them, who knows what ideas they’ll get with watching that.”

“Terushima-kun loves the part where they chopped down a huge tree,” Keiji says. “When that scene comes on, we need to make sure he doesn’t run out of the apartment with the intent to actually chop down a tree.”

Ennoshita lets out another laugh and Keiji smiles to himself. He loves hearing the younger male laugh.

Back in the living room, Terushima grabs a handful of red and green chocolate candies, popping them in his mouth. “When are you all going to date?”

“Close your mouth while you’re chewing,” Kenjirou orders, pausing his wrapping of a toilet mug (Tendou will love it) to lean over and press a shiny bow to Terushima’s mouth. “No one wants to hear your loud chewing.”

Terushima swallows and removes the bow, moving it to the top of his hair. “When are you guys going to date?”

“Who are you referring to?” Yahaba asks, not bothering to look him in the eye as he finishes wrapping an impractical gag gift, a plastic ball of literally nothing. “This is one for the Dirty Santa, right?” 

“Yeah,” Kenjirou confirms. “I hope Kawanishi gets that one, he’ll love it. And yeah, who are you talking about, Terushima?”

“You two and Ennoshita and Akaashi,” Terushima answers.

Kenjirou almost drops the ceramic cup. “Excuse me?”

Yahaba stares at Terushima. “What was that?”

“You heard the man,” Futakuchi, unbothered as ever, the dipshit. “Y’all pine awkwardly, it’s really embarrassing. Like when we were at the ramen place last week, man that was so cringy. You all kept bumping hands and stuttering- except Akaashi, but we could tell even he was blushing.”

Kenjirou tries to push that night- albeit fun night, but still embarrassing- out of his head. “The restaurant was hot!”

“So that’s why you all bunched together on one side of the table like your life depended on it?” Futakuchi asks.

“We didn’t want to crowd you,” Yahaba says. “We’re considerate people, fuck you.”

“I don’t think I’m one of the people you want to fuck,” Futakuchi smirks.

“Whether or not I want to fuck my roommates is irrelevant!” Yahaba screeches as Ennoshita pops his head out of the kitchen. “If you guys are done… the cookies have cooled down enough for us to decorate.”

Yahaba leaps out of his seat and into the kitchen as Terushima and Futakuchi collapse in laughter. Yamamoto furrows his eyebrows, decided it’s not worth trying to solve the current puzzle at hand, and hurried over to the cookies waiting to be decorated.

“What happened?” Ennoshita asks Kenjirou.

“Terushima brought up an issue none of us want to discuss,” he smoothly answers. “Now let’s start decorating those cookies.”

_ “I’ll tidy that up later,” Chikara decides. “Now it’s time for the real showstopper.” _

_ Yahaba and Shirabu laugh as Keiji rolls his eyes. “Don’t exaggerate any details.” _

_ “Oh, trust me dear Keiji,” Chikara smirks. “I won’t.” _


	7. We're Rolling in 5, 4-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're all gay disasters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the part where Kat's art is from!!!
> 
> http://kat-doodles.tumblr.com/post/181141973506/my-second-hqbb-art-is-for-wherever-inspiration
> 
> TW for underage drinking.

Keiji doesn’t drink. That’s what he tells himself. The truth is he doesn’t drink _much_. Until that party, it was an occasional glass of sake in the safe confines of his house, where his parents and relatives joke about him not drinking too much. He didn’t think much of it, his family knows he’s responsible and once he graduated high school, included him in the toasts at family gatherings. The drinking age wasn’t enforced severely and if they’re not in public, then what’s the harm?

Because he’s already been exposed to drinking prior, although no more than two drinks at a time, he didn’t think he’d be tempted to drink at the party. But he also didn’t think he’d see two of his roommates in lacy underwear and short skirts. So yes, Keiji makes the mistake drinking at Fukunaga’s holiday party.

He doesn’t even recall the tipping point. Was it when he spotted that damn eggnog?

… Maybe it was the Grinch shots.

Can’t forget the spiked hot chocolate.

Oh boy.

Before the party, he and his roommates prepare for the party at their apartment. Ennoshita used his puppy eyes (a dirty trick) to convince Shirabu into a holiday sweater while Yahaba needed no prodding to go all out.

Keiji examines at Yahaba’s attire. “Where did you get that?” he blurts out, trying his hardest not to go wide-eyed at the exposed legs.

“I had it!” Yahaba cheers gleefully, spinning so the poofy skirt of his short Santa dress flies up. Keiji fails to keep his eyes from widening this time, especially when a peek of underwear catches his eye. “Is that a garter? With candy canes?”

“Yep!” Yahaba stops spinning and adjusts his Santa hat. “Who says only Mrs. Claus gets to wear a dress?” He juts out a hip to emphasize his point.

Shirabu comes out of his room, muttering under his breath as he fiddles with his holiday bow tie (again, thanks to Ennoshita). “Are we all ready?” he asks, glancing down as he finished knotting his tie before glancing up and gaping. “What are you wearing?”

“Clothes,” Yahaba says.

“I can see that,” Shirabu responds, swallowing. He searches for the right word. “It’s… festive.”

“Quite,” Keiji agrees, throat suddenly feeling dry.

Yahaba grins. “I’m not the only one!” he sing-songs, rushing to the hallway and knocking on Ennoshita’s door. “Are you ready?”

“Don’t tell me-” Keiji mutters.

Shirabu blinks, confused. “Do you think that-?” he whispers, shooting Keiji an uncertain look.

Yahaba succeed in coaxing Ennoshita out of his room. “Ta-da!” he cheers, spreading his arms out in the classic Will Smith meme pose. “Look at him!”

Keiji chokes. Not only is Ennoshita wearing a Santa dress just like Yahaba’s, his skirt is shorter and poofier, revealing more obviously a garter full of candy canes. Keiji isn’t sure how he’ll get through the night without getting hard.

“Shit,” Shirabu curses under his breath, face as red as the dresses. “Um, I call driving.” He grabs his pair of keys and the party invitation.“I’ll drive out of the parking garage and park in front of the building,” he says, stringing his words together almost too quickly to understand as he races out of the apartment.

Keiji places all the gifts they brought for Secret Santa into an old takeout bag, focusing on the wrapping designs instead of his two other roommates. “Are you guys ready?” he asks, finally turning back to them and seeing Ennoshita tug on his skirt hemline.

“I look ridiculous,” he complains to Yahaba, shifting his feet as he fiddles with his fingers (Keiji notes how familiar the action is and realizes Ennoshita picked it up from him. He holds back a smile). “Even Shirabu couldn’t keep a straight face,” the former wing spiker continues.

“Shirabu can’t keep a straight anything,” Yahaba replies, adjusting Ennoshita’s hat. “You look really hot, plus I already bought you a week’s worth of sea pineapple and the store won’t accept returns.”

Keiji pipes up before he realizes what he’s doing. “Stop fretting, you both look great.”

Ennoshita bites his lower lip as a flush grows over his cheeks.  “Thanks,” he mumbles, smoothing down his skirt.

Yahaba beams. “See?” He turns back to Ennoshita. “This is why you should always listen to me.”

“No way,” Ennoshita says, picking up the tin-foil covered platter of holiday cookies. “Last month you had put all the clothing in the washer at once. I’m glad I entered the laundry room before you started the machine.”

“What’s wrong with putting all the clothes in at once?” Yahaba protests. “It moves things along quicker. I don’t want to waste time putting in multiple loads ‘just because they’re all different colors.’”

Keiji shares a look with Ennoshita. “Is he serious?”

“Very,” Ennoshita sighs. “Yahaba, you would’ve mixed the whites with the blacks and the colors. The clothes could’ve stained each other with the colors.”

“I don’t think that would’ve really happened,” Yahaba huffs, turning away with his nose in the air.

“You also used about three times the amount of soap,” Ennoshita adds.

“Three times the _recommended_ amount of soap,” Yahaba corrects, hands on his hips. “I wanted to make sure all the clothes got cleaned! It was a lot of clothing, after all.”

“Yeah,” Ennoshita says, resting the platter’s side against his hip like a diner waiter with a tray. “Almost like you put too much clothing in the machine.”

“So not only did we have to ban Shirabu-kun from the kitchen, we have to ban Yahaba-kun from the laundry room,” Keiji sums up, picking up the bag of gifts. “Great. I’ll make a schedule when we get back.”

Yahaba huffs and crosses his arms. “Not necessary.”

“It’s for the best,” Ennoshita chuckles, patting his arm. “This just means you’ll be on unloading and folding duty more often.”

“Great, because I don’t like that duty,” Keiji comments. Yahaba huffs once more. Before he retorts, their phones ping loudly. Spotting a text in the groupchat from Shirabu saying he’s pulled up in the front, they hurry downstairs and once in the car, head over to Fukunaga’s apartment.

“What apartment number was it again?” Yahaba asks.

“Weren’t you the one supposed to bring the invitation from the car?” Shirabu replied. They took the invitation in case they forgot the address. They hadn’t visited Fukunaga in his new apartment more than once or twice.

“Since when was that a task?” Yahaba says, pulling open the apartment building door open.

“It was closest to you!” Shirabu insists.

“You’re the one that grabbed it initially from the fridge!”

Fukunaga opens his apartment door before any of them raise a fist to knock. Donned in a fuzzy Santa hat and Christmas cat sweater, he gives them a small smile.

“ _Pawsitively_ wonderful to see you,” he practically purrs, giggling to himself at the pun.

“Hey Fukunaga,” Ennoshita greets. “The party looks great.”

Fukunaga smiles and opens the door wider, gesturing for them to come inside.

The apartment isn’t very small, but it appears smaller with all the people stuffed inside. Keiji recognizes maybe half of the people, which is more than he can say for other parties he’s been dragged to attend, so at least the party he voluntarily went to is already off to a better start than previous ones.

“What do we do?” Shirabu quietly asks as they wander around. “The invitation said games weren’t starting until a little later.”

“We mingle!” Yahaba responds. He laces Shirabu’s arm with his own. “Come on, let’s go set the treats we made in the kitchen.” Yahaba bends around to grab the tin-foil covered-plates from Ennoshita. “We’ll catch up with you soon, be careful around the mistletoe.” He winks and a flushing Shirabu is swept away by a mischievous Yahaba.

“You made it!” Yamamoto cries happily, catching both Keiji and Ennoshita in a big hug.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Keiji says, eyeing Yamamoto’s festive cat sweater. He’s even wearing a Santa hat with cat ears. He guesses Fukunaga and Yamamoto went shopping together or coordinated their outfits. Then again, they both loved cats before dating and it wouldn’t surprise Keiji if both already had their festive attire in their closets.

“We’ve only been here a few minutes, but it looks great,” Ennoshita says to Yamamoto, who grins. “Shouhei did a great job, didn’t he!” It’s not a question. “The whole time while we were setting up, he was cool as cucumber!” He sighs. "He's so amazing."

Keiji knows the feeling, looking at someone so dear to your heart that everything about them is amazing. It's a heavy feeling, weighing down his heart.

~~

Chikara heads over to the kitchen in hopes of grabbing a hot chocolate that’s actually hot when he’s tugged over to a corner. He yelps out of surprise. “Who the-” he blinks. “Kazu?”

Narita grins. “That would’ve been really awkward if it wasn’t you, but I was certain it was,” he laughs. “You’re in the spirit of things, aren’t you?”

Chikara rolls his eyes and nudges him. “Shut up. It was Yahaba’s idea, anyway.”

“I think you’re rather enjoying it,” he teases, adjusting his ugly holiday sweater. It even has small ornaments and shiny tinsel.

“Maybe I am.”

Narita chuckles, sipping his Santa martini. “How did your finals go? Haven’t had much of a chance to see you since November.”

“They’re done and I think I did well, but I plan to forget about them till I hear grades are in,” Chikara honestly says.

“That’s a mood if I ever heard one,” Narita says as a figure sneaks up behind him. Tanaka holds a finger over his lips to keep Chikara silent. “I’m happy to forget about them for a while- hey!” He jumps, nearly spilling his drink, as Tanaka (wearing a sweater matching Narita’s) gives him a hug from behind and lifts him off the ground. “Ryuu!”

“That’s me,” Tanaka agrees, rubbing his cheek against Narita’s cheek. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Judging by the almost drink spill, you succeeded,” Chikara chimes. He didn’t want to break Fukunaga’s cat print rug to be remodeled by holiday drinks.

Tanaka laughs again, resting his chin on Narita’s shoulder as his boyfriend leans against his chest. “I didn’t recognize you until I saw you talking to Kazuhito,” he admits, still hugging Narita. “Quite a get up you got there.”

“Sexy ass if I ever saw one, right Hisashi?!” Noya crows, arms around Kinoshita’s neck as the latter gives him a piggyback ride to the group of recent Karasuno graduates.

“That’s our Chikara,” Kinoshita snorts, smiling when Noya kisses his cheek.

“I love how your boyfriend complimented my butt yet you’re unbothered,” Chikara jokes, hoping his face isn’t as red as he thinks it is.

“Hey, just because you state the obvious doesn’t make it flirting,” Kinoshita says, setting Noya down. “We all know you have a fine ass,” the libero adds.

Chikara covers his face, hiding the view of Kinoshita and Noya high-fiving and Tanaka chuckling with Narita. He forgot how meddlesome all four of his old friends can be when together.

“You all got even worse when you started dating,” he claims, face growing hotter by the second.

They all laugh.

“Love does that to ya,” Tanaka says, tugging Narita closer to his side. “I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“What does that mean?” Chikara asks too quickly.

Tanaka shrugs. “Not like you can’t relate to us because you have your boyfriends.”

“What?” Chikara inquires as Noya lets out a wail. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us, Chikara!”

Narita gives Tanaka a curious look. “Chikara isn’t dating anyone.”

Tanaka’s mouth drops in a large ‘O’ shape. “I thought he was dating his roommates.”

“‘And they were roommates,’” Kinoshita whisper-shouts.

Chikara waves his hands, gesturing wildly. “We’re not dating, nope, everything is totally platonic, not like I like them or anything.” Someone he doesn’t recognize walks past with a Grinch shot and he immediately downs one. “Nothing! Totally not gay or anything. I have to go!” He turns on his heel and sinks into the crowd, hoping they don’t follow him.

“Whoa, watch where you’re going,” Futakuchi says, placing his hands on Chikara’s shoulder to steady him.

“Sorry, I was trying to avoid more embarrassment,” Chikara mutters.

“Wrong person to tell that to,” Futakuchi says, looping his arm with Chikara’s. “Come on.”

“What are you doing?” he inquires as Futakuchi scans the room, looking for someone- or some people- in particular.

“It was funny at first, but now it’s painful,” he claims, still not answering Chikara’s question. “Come on, I saw one of those fuckers nearby-”

“Who?” Chikara asks, quite confused. “What are you even doing?”

“I’m trying to get you boyfriends, be quiet,” Futakuchi responds.

“Hah?!”

“There we go!” Futakuchi cheers as he spots Akaashi, staring inquisitively at a small glass of cinnamon-dusted eggnog.

“Futakuchi, what are you even talking about?!” Chikara hisses.

Akaashi looks up from his glass. “Hello Chikara-kun, Futakuchi-kun. Enjoying the party?”

“I’ll be enjoying it more in a second,” Futakuchi says. “Hey Akaashi, can you take a step back, so you’re standing in the doorway? I’ll hold your eggnog, this will just take a second.”

He gives Futakuchi an odd look, but takes a step backwards.

“Turn to the side so you’re at a profile position.”

Shooting Futakuchi another done look, Akaashi follows his instructions.”

“Great, now Ennoshita, you take a step backwards and turn to the side so you’re facing Akaashi.”

Chikara doesn’t even bother to pester Futakuchi about his intentions this time. “Like this?”

“Yeah!” Futakuchi reaches into his pocket and tapes something to the top of the doorway. “There you go, now make out and shit.” He flashes a smirk and bolts out of the room.

Chikara tilts his eyes upward and nearly shrieks when he sees what Futakuchi taped to the doorway.

Mistletoe.

Why is he not surprised?

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Chikara insists, waving his hands furiously. “I’m cool if you do. Or don’t! Ahahaha, ignore me, I’m a big bisexual mess. Feel free to kiss me, or not! I mean…” He rings his hands together. “Yeah.”

_Chikara, you fucking idiot._

Way to totally _not_ be thirsty.

If Akaashi is flustered, he hides it well. “To make sure Futakuchi-kun shuts up,” he jokes, wrapping an arm around Chikara’s waist and pulling him closer.

He stares at Akaashi, wide-eyed, and swallows. “Oh?” he squeaks, internally face-palming.

Akaashi brushes back Chikara’s bangs and Santa hat from his face. “Yes,” he lightly smiles, leaning closer.

He feels Akaashi’s breath on his face as his own breath hitches. “Are you going to make me do all the work like the first time?” he teases.

“I brought it up this time!” Chikara argues, nervously placing his hands on Akaashi’s chest.

This time Akaashi teases, “Does that mean you’re going to lean in this time?”

“I will if you won’t kiss me,” Chikara says, trying not to pout. With Akaashi so close to him and his heart pounding so hard, he admits to himself that yes, he does like Akaashi.

“You do?”

Chikara stares in horror. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes.”

“Oh _fuck._ ”

Akaashi leans closer, lips brushing against Chikara’s. “I like you too.”

Chikara gapes at the taller male. “R-really?”

“Maybe I need to show, not tell.” Akaashi presses his mouth, hot and soft, against Chikara’s at last and he’s embarrassed when he lets outs a sigh of pure pleasure.

He presses his chest against Akaashi’s, wanting to get as close as possible. He’s not sure whose tongue comes out first, but he’s pressing his against Akaashi’s and he doesn’t recall feeling such simultaneously innocent _and_ lewd pleasure in a long time, not including last week when he and Yahaba went shopping for lingerie.

Chikara isn’t sure how much time went by, but it’s enough for fellow partygoers to whistle and wink. He jumps back from the kiss, touching his lips. Did that really just happen?

Akaashi appears just as bewildered as he feels. “I have to go.”

“What? You’re leaving the party already?” Chikara says, startled and taken aback. He tries not to look hurt, but it’s hard when he feels as though he’s been pierced in the heart.

“Not the party, just…” Akaashi waves a hand. “It’s not you, it’s me. That sounds like a breakup line, ignore that. I’ll see you soon, okay?” He gives a weak smile that shatters Chikara’s heart. Before he even replies, Akaashi rushes out of the room.

Chikara stares after him, blinking furiously to keep tears at bay. _I thought everything was going well. He said he liked me?_

He didn’t think any of his three crushes would return his feelings, so when Akaashi requited his feelings, he was ecstatic. Until he ran away.

A hand rests on his shoulder. “You okay?” Kinoshita softly asks. “Dumb question, I know.”

Narita squeezes his other shoulder. “They’re about to start a game of Dirty Santa if you want to join. Or we could find a quiet spot.”

“Or we could leave you alone,” Kinoshita adds. “Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

Chikara wipes his eyes, checking for any stray tears. “Dirty Santa, you say?”


	8. And Cut!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for underage drinking and drunkenness.

Oh, Keiji fucked up. He fucked up _big time_. He can’t believe he fucked up that badly, surely there must be a reward. Or he’ll get a place in the Guinness World Records.

“Yo Akaashi, you look like you could use a drink,” Terushima jokes, resting an arm over his shoulder. “Having fun?

“Something like that,” Keiji says. “Where’s that drink?”

Terushima laughs, plucking two Grinch shots off a nearby passing tray. “This suffice?”

Keiji resists the urge to take both the shots from Terushima and accepts one shot. “Thanks.” He immediately downs it.

“You okay?” Terushima asks on a more serious note. He wrinkles his eyebrows together as he studies Keiji. “You don’t look great.”

“I may have royally screwed over a childhood friendship, how about you?” Keiji bitterly asks. “Are you going to have that shot? I’ll take that.” He reaches for the second shot, but Terushima holds it out of reach. “No more alcohol until you explain what’s going on.”

“I made out with Chikara-kun under the mistletoe that Futakuchi-kun oh-so generously put above us,” Keiji begins, spotting a mug of spiked hot chocolate. He grabs and drinks half before Terushima wrangles it from him. “We confessed and then we kissed. For a good while, I nearly ran out of breath.”

“It doesn’t sound like anything bad so far.”

“What do you mean so far it doesn’t sound like anything bad?!” Keiji tries to get the rest of the hot chocolate, but Terushima pushes it into a passing stranger’s hands. “Dump this, please.” He turns back to Keiji. “You kissed Ennoshita after you found out you both liked each other. What’s wrong with that?”

“Because I like two other people!” Keiji hisses. “I was supposed to confess all at the same time, to explain how I like them all and maybe we could have a polyamorous relationship. I had a plan and everything.”

“You like Ennoshita, Yahaba, and Shirabu?” Terushima guesses.

Keiji gapes. “How did you know?”

“It’s obvious you all like each other,” he says. “You all need to sit down and have a conversation.”

Keiji nods. “I should talk to them now.” He snatches two Grinch shots and quickly drinks them.

“Wait, not now!” Terushima frantically says, taking the now empty shot glasses from him.. “Dammit, stop drinking!”

Keiji sways slightly, the alcohol finally hitting. And it hits _hard._ “I’m fine Terushima-kuuuun.”

“You’re drunk,” Terushima corrects, grabbing Keiji’s arm to keep him standing.

“No, I’m Keiji.” He waves off Terushima. “I’m fine! I need to talk to my loooovers. Or my hopefully future loooovers!” He lets out a high-pitched giggle. _“Loooovers!”_

“Fucking dammit.” Terushima waves over Yamamoto, who just parted from exchanging nose kisses with Fukunaga.

“What happened to Akaashi?” Yamamoto worriedly asks.

“I gotta confess!” Keiji demands. “Bros, help me out!”

“Did Akaashi just say bro?” Yamamoto whispers to Terushima. “He must be drunk.”

Keiji uses this moment to stumble away from the two. He pops his head inside the adjoining room. A group of people sit in a circle, all holding presents.

“Okay, so everyone puts their gift in circle,” Watari tells everyone, standing in the middle. “Right in the middle where I’m standing. After I go sit down, of course.”

Keiji doesn’t pay him attention as he scans the room. Once he finds Ennoshita, sitting cross-legged, he whisper-shouts, “Chikara!”

Ennoshita turns around, a skeptical look on his face until he takes a good look at Keiji. “What happened to you?”

“He looks drunk,” Kinoshita helpfully says.

“I need to talk to you,” Keiji says, leaning against the doorway so he doesn’t sway.

“Right now?” Ennoshita quickly gets up and takes Keiji’s arm.

“Is something wrong?” he asks as Ennoshita leads him to a corner.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re drunk. Is this because of-”

Keiji places a finger over Ennoshita’s lips, shushing him. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna explain _everythiiiing_ soon!” He giggles.

Ennoshita examines Keiji closely. “What are you talking about?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “We may need to take you home.”

“I’m fine.” Keiji waves a hand. “I need to talk to you and Shirabu and Yahaba.”

“You must be under the influence if you’re not using honorifics,” Ennoshita mutters.

Keiji spots Shirabu and Yahaba across the room. “Gays, guys, I need to talk to you!”

“Most people here aren’t straight,” Ennoshita says. “You’ll have to be more specific than that, Keiji.”

“Salty gays!”

“Closer, but not much.”

Luckily Shirabu and Yahaba spotted him. They rushed over, maneuvering through the crowd.

“What the hell happened?” Shirabu demanded. “Keiji, I can smell the alcohol on you.”

“I’m fine,” Keiji insists, waving a hand again. “Just chillax!”

Yahaba’s mouth is wide-open. “What the fuck is going on?”

Keiji leans forward and covers his once. “Shhh! I gotta somethin’ to say.” He clears his throat. “Not only do I want to fuck you- all three of them- but I wanna hold your hand, and kiss you, and cuddle the whole night throouugh.”

By this point, the entire room turns their attention to the group. The only other sounds are the blaring holiday tunes from the bluetooth speakers.

“Excuse me?” Shirabu’s voice is a few octaves higher than normal.

_“You don’t need to add that!” Shirabu hisses._

_“If Chikara is writing my drunken confession, your voice can be high.”_

_“I’m only telling the truth,” Chikara teases, not even stopping his pen._

“I looooove you,” Keiji yells. “I think Chika-chan first ‘cause I knew him a long ass time. Then I met you two and that started. And when we moved into together, I was really feeling the gay. Like everyday! More so than usual!”

“Keiji, I think we should head home.” Chikara tugs on his sleeve. “You need to rest.”

Yahaba glares at everyone staring at them. “Nothing to see here, folks!”

“When we get back home, I need a drink,” Shirabu mutters. “We don’t even have alcohol, can I steal a wine bottle?”

“No one else is drinking tonight!” Chikara insists. Shirabu sighs in resignment, leaving to get their coats.

“I think about you three all the time,” Keiji continues, even as Chikara leads him to the door. “Just last night I had a dream where we all were naked and-”

Yahaba covers Keiji’s mouth. “We should stop to make sure we have enough aspirin, Keiji will need a bunch.”

Shirabu returns with their jackets, a water bottle, and small plate of proper food. “Make sure Keiji eats this in the car,” he orders to Yahaba, passing the food and water to him.

Chikara is tasked with wrangling Keiji into his winter coat. “It’s cold out, Keiji,” he says, face still bright red from his words earlier.

“I gotta tell you about my dream!” Keiji whines. “Like I said, we were all naked-”

“Let’s discuss this when you’re sober tomorrow morning,” Chikara rushes to say.

“Fine. But I don’t wanna wear my coat! I’m hooooot.”

“I wonder why,” Yahaba comments.

Shirabu rubs his forehead. “Everyone, get in the elevator, before any of Fukunaga’s neighbors see us.”

Somehow they get to Shirabu’s car without anyone in the apartment building seeing them.

As the car is started, Chikara sighs. “This will be fun to explain in the morning.”


	9. That's a Wrap!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Clearly there’s something I did or said,” Akaashi says.
> 
> “You kind of…”
> 
> “Confessed.”

_ “Is my shame over?” Akaashi grumbles, lifting his head up from Yahaba’s lap. _

_ “Don’t worry, Keiji. Now your redemption arc starts,” Chikara laughs, ruffling his hair fondly. Akaashi sighs. “This one better be as accurate as the party.” _

_ “I couldn’t forget a detail of this if I tried.” _

_ “Looking back, it was pretty funny,” Shirabu says, referring to the party incident. _

_ “Says the one who didn’t get drunk and blurt out everything,” Akaashi scoffs. _

_ “Don’t worry,” Chikara repeats. “In the end, it helped us come together. Maybe we can tell our kids.” _

_ “Dibs!” Yahaba immediately calls as Akaashi sighs. _

The morning after, the three anxiously wait for Akaashi to wake up. Despite the shared looks that clearly were in reference to the prior night and the shocking news, they all had an unspoken agreement not to discuss anything until Akaashi awakened. The moment they hear a groan, they know he’s up.

Shirabu goes to fetch another glass of water while Yahaba pops open the ibuprofen bottle.

“Hey Keiji,” Chikara softly says. He sits beside Akaashi on his bed, running his hand through Akaashi’s curls. 

Akaashi pushes himself off the bed into a sitting position. Yahaba holds out a few pills and Akaashi takes them, swallowing them with long sips of water.

Shirabu enters the room right as Akaashi finishes the water beside his bed. He eagerly accepts the second glass, not wasting a second to down the cool liquid.

“My head is pounding,” he admits. “Stupid drinks. This is why I don’t drink,  _ usually _ .” 

“It happens,” Chikara assures. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

Yahaba sits on the bed, legs crossed, and Shirabu joins them. “It was very interesting,” Shirabu pipes up. “You really are a character when drunk.”

Chikara lightly glares at Shirabu. “Not really helping.”

“I’m glad I was amusing,” Akaashi grumbles, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t remember much.”

The three exchange glances, unsure of how to approach the topic.

“Do you want us to tell you?” Yahaba asks, fiddling with the medicine bottle.

“Clearly there’s something I did or said,” Akaashi says, eyeing all of them. “To cause that awkward look.”

“You kind of…” Chikara starts, glancing down at the duvet. Suddenly the pattern is very interesting.

“Confessed," Shirabu fills in.

“You also may have told us about a dream you had,” Yahaba replies. “A naked dream.”

Akaashi falls back on his bed with a loud groan.

“I’m not opposed to making that a reality, when everyone is sober,” Yahaba continues.

Chikara throws a pillow at Yahaba. “Not the moment!” he hisses.

Akaashi rubs his eyes with the back of his hands. “Can I go back and time to just not do that?” he rhetorically states.

“You mean confess?” Chikara asks. Hope gathers in his chest, heart pounding faster. “Were you serious?”

Akaashi sits back up. Three pairs of eyes, gorgeous eyes, full of concern stare at him. “Yes,” he admits. “I had a grand plan to confess to you all that is more romantic than drunken slurring.” He rubs his neck. “I don’t know if you all feel the same way about me, but I hate not saying how I feel… I understand if any of you don’t want to room anymore.”

“No!” Yahaba nearly yells. “I- I don’t mind. I like you too, Keiji. And you Kenjirou, and Chikara.” The latter two blush slightly at the use of their given names. Akaashi is too surprised to say anything.

“Is this another drunken dream?” he questions, staring up at his ceiling.

Yahaba smiles bashfully. “I didn’t want to say anything until Keiji sobered up from last night.”

“I like you all too,” Shirabu mutters. Before they turn to Chikara for his response, he leans across the bed to capture them all in a tight group-hug.

“I’m glad you all confessed first so I knew I wouldn’t be rejected,” he half-jokes, causing them all to laugh slightly. None of them pull back from the hug, enjoying that their feelings are requited and no heartbreak would rest here tonight or anytime soon.

“Does this mean we’re all boyfriends?” Shirabu asks after a moment of silence.

“I’d hope,” Chikara says.

“If not, this hug just got really awkward,” Yahaba comments, causing another round of laughter.

“I’m glad my drunk self made this possible,” Akaashi snorts.

“What idea did you have to confess?” Yahaba curiously asks. “You said you had a plan.”

Akaashi reluctantly removes his arms. He gets off the bed, moving towards his desk. He picks up a large folder from his photography class. “Let’s go to the living room, the lighting is better in there.”

After the four settle in the living room, Akaashi opens his folder. “You know that assignment I had earlier this semester? When I took photos of you all doing stuff?”

“Like with the violin,” Shirabu says, nodding in realization.

“The true assignment was love. I had the idea to take photos of people doing what they love, but I kind of… made it about people I love.”

“Keiji, that’s really gay,” Yahaba whisper-shouts.

Akaashi deadpans. “Thank you, Shigeru.” That causes a soft blush to appear on Yahaba’s cheeks.

Chikara picks up a photo of him. He’s bent over a table, focused expression as he scribbles a note on a script. Of course Akaashi can make such a simple action look phenomenal.

“Anything you do is phenomenal,” Akaashi insists. Chikara smiles.

Shirabu examines one of the pictures where he’s playing the violin.

“That one is my favorite photo of you,” Akaashi softly says. “My favorite Shigeru one is this photo right here.” He hands Yahaba the photo. Yahaba is huddled up in a hoodie and blanket on the couch, headphones on as he focuses on his computer screen.

“I planned to have these set up so you all would come home one day,” Akaashi says. “I was going to make dinner and give a proper confession.”

“I don’t know, a drunken confession is pretty good,” Shirabu says, corners of his mouth quirking up. 

Akaashi rolls his eyes. “Anyway, since the cat is out of the bag and we’re now dating, I still wanted to show you these. I’ll just have to cook you guys a nice dinner later.”

“Maybe when you’re not working off a hangover,” Chikara teases.

“Will I ever live this down?” Akaashi asks, glancing towards the ceiling again in hopes it’ll give him answers.

“Nope!” Yahaba answers. “Get used to it, babe. You knew what you were signing up for.”

“Yeah,” Akaashi fondly says. “I did.”

_ “As unconventional as it was, I think we got together in a unique way,” Yahaba says as Chikara writes the final sentence. _

_ “You’re not wrong,” Akaashi agrees. _

_ Shirabu flops on top of them. “Enough sap for now, I’m hungry. How about you make us a meal again, Keiji?” _

_ Akaashi rolls his eyes. “I’ll meet you halfway and place an order for takeout. Sushi?” _

_ They all agree and Akaashi pulls out his phone to make the call. Yahaba pulls up the menu online so they can decide what rolls they want to order. _

_ “You know what I realized?” Shirabu says. _

_ “What?” Chikara asks, glancing away from the menu to give a curious look to him. _

_ “We’re the ‘but they were roommates’ partners,” Shirabu says. “We’re literally meme partners.” _

_ “Okay,” Akaashi says. “I’m ordering sushi for everyone except Kenjirou.” _

_ “Hey!” Shirabu protests. _

_ Akaashi kisses the side of Shirabu’s head. “You know I’m kidding.” _

_ Shirabu grumbles, but it’s more for show than anything, while Yahaba mutters under his breath as he tries to decide what he wants to order. _

_ Chikara grins. They’re a wild bunch, and he wouldn’t trade them for the world. _


End file.
